Shi Yusheng finally realized that this was no bonus-scene shoot at all. It was a proposal Huo Xingchao and the director had planned together.
She looked around. Apart from her manager, whose face was just as bewildered as hers, everyone was smiling with warm wishes.
Except Xuan Wen, of course.
She sat far away, looking down at her phone as though she cared nothing for the excitement here.
Unfortunately, nobody was beside her except her assistant. Her deliberate show of indifference only emphasized how isolated she was, and how much she cared.
Shi Yusheng turned back, blinked, and looked at the man still kneeling before her. Suddenly, she crouched down too, leaned close to his ear, and spoke softly.
“Huo Xingchao, if I accept your proposal, could you not fight me for custody when we divorce?”
…
The sequence of cause and effect in that sentence was rather heartbreaking.
Huo Xingchao paused. Looking at the hope and seriousness in the girl’s big eyes, he finally sighed, chose not to argue, and nodded. “I promise.”
“Then could you sign an agreement guaranteeing that when we get back?”
Well.
She had quite a sense of legal awareness and self-protection.
But if they really reached that point, did she think a flimsy agreement would do anything to him?
The man sighed. “All right.”
He smiled. “Shi Yusheng, this is your proposal. Do you know how many cameras are filming? You’ll have to post on Weibo later. Could you preserve a slightly more composed, normal public image?”
…
Why did he know the procedure better than she did? Which one of them was the celebrity?
The girl huffed, took his hand for support, and stood. After gathering her emotions for a moment, her eyes instantly reddened. Tears streamed down her face as she nodded, deeply moved. “Yes.”
She held out her hand, looking blissfully happy. “Put it on.”
Huo Xingchao raised his eyebrows and stood, still holding her hand. Then, under her puzzled gaze, he opened the enormous black box he held.
Inside lay a dazzling crown.
It was exquisitely made, with a flower shaped in the center and diamonds of every size, probably hundreds, glittering under the lights, almost blinding the onlookers.
The man smiled, brushed her hair away from her forehead, and placed the crown on her head.
“The ring design isn’t finished yet. Make do with this little circlet for now.”
Feeling its weight, Shi Yusheng abruptly stopped crying. Lowering her voice, she whispered, “How much does this crown cost?”
Huo Xingchao casually gave an approximate figure.
The girl swallowed, her entire expression growing cautious.
“You’re only lending it to me for appearances, right? Do you need to return it to the museum later?”
“No. It’s yours.”
The man straightened, amusement and starlight in his eyes, his voice unhurried.
“It’s my child too, after all. I have to make sure you can support the baby after we divorce.”
“I’d sooner sell myself than bear to sell this…”
Shi Yusheng muttered. Catching sight of the cameraman, who had somehow moved in front of them, she hurriedly put on a tearful smile, her eyes curving, and threw herself into his arms. Secretly, she tried to negotiate.
“Huo Xingchao, if anyone asks later, can I knock a zero off its value? I feel that keeping something this expensive with me puts my personal safety in serious danger…”
Huo Xingchao ignored her. After saying goodbye to Director Xiang, he put an arm around her and led her toward the car outside the set.
Someone delivered two huge boxes of wedding sweets1 and placed them beside the set. They were not specially wrapped, just loosely packed. Any crew member passing could grab a handful if they wanted.
Although, later, as they kept taking handfuls, the sweets seemed to come with unlimited refills. Somehow, they never ran out.
…
Afraid of being scolded, Shi Yusheng had not gone home that evening. She was curled up pitifully on the hotel bed, posting on Weibo.
And, as coincidence would have it, this was the very hotel room where she had previously hired Huo Xingchao for the night.
Her evening had been chaotic.
First, she called her parents, who were shocked and gave her a thorough scolding.
Then her company called and spoke at length. The general message was that she must not act willfully or say anything rash on Weibo or other social media. Everything had to wait until they had discussed it with President Huo.
Finally, there was Grandmother Huo.
Once Shi Yusheng had nervously made Huo Xingchao sign the custody agreement, she relaxed and thought of Grandmother Huo.
So she called her too.
Learning that she was pregnant delighted the old woman so much that, if it had not been late, she would almost have come that very night to see her granddaughter-in-law and great-grandchild.
At last, after they had finished all the necessary calls, Huo Xingchao was in the living room attending all sorts of video meetings and coordinating the arrangements to follow.
As for her, she had been left in the bedroom to write her reflections.
Yes, reflections.
Who knew what Huo Xingchao was thinking? In the past, her team had written these PR statements. Yet he insisted her own words would carry more genuine feeling and resonate better with her fans.
So Shi Yusheng, who had always been poor at Chinese and dreaded essay writing since childhood, could only sit on the bed racking her brains over her “reflections” on being proposed to.
In the end, she managed to squeeze out an explanatory piece of more than three hundred Chinese characters.
Shi Yusheng checked for typos, admired her own literary talent, and confidently pressed Send.
She yawned, closed the laptop, checked that the bedroom door was locked, and snuggled comfortably beneath the quilt to sleep.
With a great weight finally off her mind, the little fairy felt very much at ease.
Of course, before sleeping, she carefully hid her crown at the very back of the wardrobe, pulled down several of Huo Xingchao’s expensive shirts, and piled them over it in layer after layer until it was completely concealed.
Then, still uneasy, she found a fruit knife in the kitchen. Under the astonished gaze of the man in the living room, she pattered back to the bedroom and placed it beneath the bedside lamp.
That way, if a thief came in, she could immediately grab a weapon and fight back.
…
Feeling she had prepared for everything, she fell peacefully asleep.
But her fans and the hordes of late-night spectators were so shocked by her long Weibo post that their eyes nearly fell out.
“Holy shit! Holy shit, holy shit! Shi Yusheng, has your account been hacked?!”
“Wait, I haven’t even processed the fact that you aren’t single. How are you suddenly getting married, and already fucking having a baby?!”
“…I really admire Shi Yusheng’s honesty! She just openly said they’re marrying because she’s pregnant. Hahahaha, a true breath of fresh air in entertainment. [thumbs-up]”
“Oh my god, that crown practically blinded me. Just how rich a husband has my little fairy found? No wonder she wasn’t interested in Jiang Sicheng. I’m thoroughly convinced!”
…
Of course, times had changed, and Shi Yusheng was not one of those male idols. Once she announced her relationship, although her fans were shocked, most wished her well. Only a small minority said they were too stunned to react.
Honestly, in entertainment, female stars faced far less resistance than male stars when announcing relationships.
Perhaps because fans were usually girls, after Shi Yusheng’s proposal video came out, apart from congratulations and shock, most comments went like this:
“Who is this man? What dramas has he been in? What’s his name? Even against that dark background, I still think he’s quite handsome.”
“I want to know too. Is he in the industry? Why does he look familiar but also not really familiar? [head-scratch]”
“Seriously, can someone investigate the man? That crown and that face have me so curious! Is he tall, rich, and handsome? Is he? My little fairy has such high standards. Surely she wouldn’t choose just anyone…”
…
Huo Xingchao rarely appeared in public.
But because Xing Pictures had extensive film and entertainment business interests, many industry insiders knew of him, although most knew only his name and Weibo account.
His Weibo had first become known only because, while promoting a new online game for Xing Pictures, Xuan Wen tagged him and jokingly asked whether there would be a giveaway. Seeing it, Huo Xingchao casually replied: No.
Xuan Wen answered that comment with a flattered emoji.
Only then did everyone learn that Xing Pictures’ owner was Huo Xingchao. But very few had actually met or spoken with him.
If even industry insiders were like that, the spectators on Weibo were more confused still.
After quite a while, someone in the know finally explained.
“Huo Xingchao. President of Xing Pictures, Huo Yingqi’s grandson. The one Xuan Wen kept trying and failing to latch onto.”
…
Xuan Wen?
Why was Xuan Wen always caught up in these romantic entanglements with Shi Yusheng?
Oh, right.
The gossip-watchers suddenly remembered something.
It really was a little strange.
During Shi Yusheng’s proposal, beneath all those star-shaped lights, the whole crew gathered nearby, smiling and eating wedding sweets. Only Xuan Wen sat alone on a distant chair.
First, she looked down at her phone. Then she slowly began peeling an orange.
The official video Shi Yusheng posted was fine. Xuan Wen did not appear, and everything was harmonious and happy.
But in videos other crew members had recorded on their phones, the woman sitting alone in the distance peeling an orange was clearly visible.
What was that about?
She had just been flaunting their sisterly affection on Weibo. Now that Shi Yusheng had received a spectacular proposal, she was sitting nearby eating an orange?
…
When Shi Yusheng got up the next morning, she took her phone and checked the reaction on Weibo.
After a whole night, the trending list was still full of topics about her proposal.
First, second, third, and fourth place were:
“Shi Yusheng proposal
Huo Xingchao
Xuan Wen peeling an orange
Shi Yusheng crown
…”
What was this?
The little fairy was unhappy.
Huo Xingchao was one thing. But why did Xuan Wen peeling an orange rank higher than her crown?
Oh, she was so angry, so angry!
- Wedding sweets, xitang, are candies shared with others to announce or celebrate a marriage. ↩︎
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